


Sick Love

by ChocolateKid



Series: Dark Fics [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Anal Sex, Blood Kink, Dark fic, Eventual Smut, Hand Jobs, I like it though, Kidnapping, Kinky Dean, M/M, Psychopath Castiel, Psychopath Dean, Rough Sex, Serial Killer Castiel, Serial Killer Dean, Sick Love, but it's sick, i wouldn't recommend reading, idk how to describe it, so if you don't like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:57:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9251372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateKid/pseuds/ChocolateKid
Summary: Serial Killer AU.Castiel finds out there's another serial killer in town, and he's out to get him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, this one is kind of special to me because it's a little disturbing, maybe. But it's a serial killer AU, so it has to be.  
> I'm going to post all three chapters at once because personally, I hate unfinished stories. The first two chapters are more or less harmless, the third one is basically just kinky smut. Just FYI.  
> It was fun writing this and please note that in real life, I would not approve of such a relationship. (But since this is fiction...)
> 
> Anyway, here's one more warning (adding to the Archive Warnings), just in case you're triggered easily:  
> Mentions of past depression and self-harm.
> 
> That should be it. Enjoy!

**Cas's** **POV**

I first started killing when I was in high school.

It wasn't really  my fault I did it. It was theirs.

To be honest, life in general used to be hell for me but it got way worse when I started high school. I admit, I was kind of socially awkward at the time, my piercing blue eyes not helping the case. Most kids called me a 'weirdo' or a 'creep', and those were the nicest things they said...

I got beat up a lot. People at school made fun of me all the time, then hit me, and my parents never noticed the bruises nor cared enough to question them. Honestly, the loneliness hit me hard and without realizing, I was slowly but steadily slipping into depression.

I remember the last nights before my inevitable outburst, crying myself to sleep, arms bleeding from self-hatred and my face still swollen from the beatings I took at school. I was miserable and nobody was there to help.

So I decided to help myself.

I don't quite know what made me do it, whether it was the latest brutal beating, which turned out to be a lot worse than my usual ones, or whether I just finally decided to have had enough. Whatever it was, the next fateful day, I came to school with a knife hidden under my shirt.

That moment, I wanted nothing more than to finally make those guys suffer, to watch them scream and squirm and bleed as I thrust my knife into their chests repeatedly. I knew it wasn't the right thing to do -I wasn't stupid after all- but my hatred for those guys was too strong to listen to my conscience.

I met my bullies the same place they always hung out and lured them into the bathroom by pretending to run away scaredly. As soon as we'd arrived, I turned around to face them with a cold look in my eyes and a smirk, drew the knife out of my belt and _finally_ let go.

I don't remember much about the first time I killed and I really don't know how I managed to take on all of them at once -it was one against four- but in the end, they were all lying on the floor lifelessly. The next thing I recall is me sitting down in a puddle of blood, giggling to myself in glee. I hadn't felt that happy in my whole life and the rush of adrenaline made my giddy and unfocused.

Then everything was black for a while.

When I woke up, I was in hospital -without my parents, who I haven't spoken to ever since- and was sent to a mental facility right after I was discharged. I didn't have to go back to school ever again.

A few years of doing what I was told and keeping my anger issues in check, I was eventually free to go back to the real world.

Life after my stay proved to be surprisingly easy, I was provided a small apartment by the state to ' _get a proper chance for a new start back in civilization_ ' and I had some help getting a job.

I still have that job by the way, because it's convenient. Tax accountants usually don't get a lot of attention and that's what I'd need in my kind of business after all. Not to be noticed.

Because I wasn't gonna stop killing. I knew it the very moment I felt the knife sink into my first victim's body with nearly no resistance... It was too good of a feeling not to do it again.

* * *

 I am now 33. The police, despite the frequent killings I've committed, have not caught me until this day. Nobody ever seems to draw a connection between boring tax accountant Novak and the random persons on the street I killed. Why would they, after all? I usually don't know any of my victims until a few hours before their death.

My last kill took place a few days ago. It happened at the other end of town and I don't even remember quite who it was. It doesn't matter though, as long as I stay away from the crime scene for a while.

I should probably get myself a new hair cut or something. I killed the man in a small alley that was surrounded by apartment buildings, there is a slight chance someone might've seen me...

I'm gonna get some money then.

I enter the building in front of me -a bank- and walk up to one of the lines. They're long and I'm already annoyed about how long it's gonna take but I control myself. It's nobody's fault that there are only two open lines.

It takes me almost 45 minutes to finally reach the bull eye and talk to the bank lady but just as I am about to tell her what I need, she looks up at me with a bored, "Sorry, this line's closed."

"What, no, it's not," I say confusedly, trying to understand what's happening, but she interrupts me yet again.

"Yeah, it is, because I'm on my break now," she adds smugly, shuts off the microphone and walks into the back of the building.

Wow. Rude.

I feel anger igniting in me like a spark, making my blood boil, and I notice my hands clenching into fists. I've never been great at anger management and in this case, I won't even try to hold back. This kind of behavior cannot be tolerated under any circumstances and it certainly won't be tolerated by me. I didn't plan on killing again this soon but that woman leaves me no other choice.

I guess I just found my next victim.

Forgetting all about the money, I decide to wait out in my car for the woman to go home at the end of her day. I know it's gonna take hours until she leaves, but some things -like the feeling of a woman's filthy, warm blood on my hands- are worth the wait.

Just in case you're wondering, yes, I do have principles. 1) Never kill kids, unless they're annoying. 2) Never kill animals, because no matter what they do, they can't ever be as bad as humans. And 3) Never kill the one who's gonna drive you home or you'll have to pay for a cab.

I think these are the most important ones I have. There might be some more but I can't remember right now. My killings are rather random after all.

* * *

 When I get back to my apartment, it's already pretty late. I usually get home a few hours earlier but that's alright because I feel more relaxed than I have in a while.

I walk into my living room and turn on the TV. I want to know what they say about the man I murdered a few days ago; if they found anything out yet and stuff like that.

I'm surprised to see that it's not my crime that has the attention of the news.

Apparently, a few murders have happened downtown, and they're none of my works. I remember my murders, no matter how shortly I've known the victims. Apart from that, it couldn't have been me because the killings were committed with a gun and I simply don't do guns. I'm a fan of knives and hearing people cry under my hands.

Guns are too easy.

"The killings happened today at 5 pm in one of the local supermarkets. The murderer was caught on video, shooting several innocent persons. After he killed the other customers, he looked straight into the camera and smiled. The video was published by unknown users on several social platforms but the police is currently trying to get the situation under control. According to officials, the murders were _not_ committed by the infamous Inside Out Killer."

I frown. Since nobody knows my real identity, the media started referring to me as the _Inside Out Killer_ because my murders are so brutal and messy the victim's insides pour out of their bodies.

Nevertheless, it should be obvious that this was none of my works. The guy _shot_ several persons. A blind man can see that it wasn't me, for God's sake.

"It seems as if we've gotten ourselves another serial killer. How many more will this town be able to endure?"

Another serial killer... I've never even thought of that happening. I always kind of assumed I'm alone in this.

I mean, of course I know there are other serial killers out there but that doesn't make a second one in this town less surreal... I wonder what he'll do if we meet. He'll probably kill me.

Weirdly enough, that thought doesn't scare me. Not that I am scared of a lot of things anymore but the prospect of somebody going after me doesn't even disturb me.

I take out my laptop and go on youtube. They said the video was published, so maybe I am fast enough to download it before it's taken down.

I type in the name of the supermarket and ' _serial killer on camera_ ' and wait anxiously for the page to load. Damn laptop has been this slow since I bought it... When it finally works, I click on the first video that pops up. I'm lucky. The video has not been taken down yet.

To make sure I can watch it more than once, I download it quickly before eventually pressing play.

The quality isn't the best, it's in black and white and there's no sound but it's still enough to make out faces. The beginning of the video is calm; you can see some people walking across the aisles, putting groceries in their baskets. The action starts as soon as the electric door opens once more and a tall man steps inside. He has short hair and smiles contently as he walks towards one of the shelves. He wanders around for a few seconds and then enters an aisle with a woman in it. I see her smile flirtatiously and I can't blame her. The man truly is gorgeous... He smiles back and says a few words, I don't know what, but suddenly her smile fades and he is pulling out a gun. He shoots her straight in the head -- she's dead right that second. Then he turns towards a man shouting at him and shoots him as well. He does that with everyone in the room, until there's around eight bodies lying on the floor. I don't even flinch. I've seen and done so much worse.

Now, the man puts away his gun and looks at his work approvingly. All of a sudden, he turns around to stare straight at the camera. Like the newsman said, the man grins wickedly and moves his lips as if he's saying something but since there's no sound, I don't know what he's mouthing. The video ends right there.

Curiously, I scroll down to the comment section. There must be at least one person who can do lip reading. What else is the internet good for anyway? I get lucky on the third or fourth comment I read. It's from a user named _Impala67_ and the words they wrote make me shudder slightly.

"Did you notice his lips moving at the end? I happen to know lip reading and I'm pretty sure he says ' _I'm coming for you, Inside Out_.' Does he plan..."

I don't read the rest of the comment. What I saw is enough and I can certainly live without a theory of what he's going to do to me.

There's a new serial killer in town, he's illegally hot and he's coming for me.

I can't help but feel excited.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please note the change in POV.

**Dean'** **s POV**

When I moved to this town, I didn't expect someone like me to already be here. _Someone like me_ meaning a serial killer.

I first heard about him on the news. Someone mentioned the name Inside Out and how he murdered a powerful lawyer in town. I was instantly captivated when I saw photos of the crime scene. His kills so messy they count as art, his way with knives skilled and practiced. He's obviously been doing this his whole life.

I noticed that he tends to work with small blades and that he throws a lot of force into each of his stabs, leading me to the conclusion that he's male. The police seem to think the same thing, apparently.

After I heard of him on the news, I looked him up, getting information on how he works, trying to figure out his personality. You can find out surprisingly much from the way a person kills.

The more I read -and saw- about him, the more I had the urge to find and congratulate the guy. He's seriously managed to never leave one single clue for the police to investigate. Even I didn't always manage that, which actually was the reason I moved here in the first place -- I got too close to being caught.

Originally, I planned on hiding in this part of town until everything calmed down but now that I heard about Inside Out I am so eager to meet him that I might just blow my cover. I don't even care who sees me, I want to fucking see him. I bet he's as sharp as his knives, as beautiful as his murders and as violent in loving as he is in killing. I bet he's perfect.

Yes, I admit, I have a little problem. I'm a horny bastard that gets off on violence. Don't judge. (I might go after you.)

However, the next morning, I am up and ready to fulfill my self-given task. Gun in belt, I drive to a random supermarket, shoot eight people and go right back to my apartment. I comment on the video I upload on youtube and hope that Inside Out will find it. I'm pretty sure he will though.

Now I can sit back and relax. The police won't find me here, I used a different persona to rent the flat and until they figure out which part of town I'm from, it will take a while. All I have to do is wait for Inside Out to react to my message.

* * *

 It's only two days later that I get what I've been waiting for. Turning on the TV, the news is full of it.

"Inside Out strikes again!"

"Another IO murder downtown -- his third in a week. What is going on?"

"Just two days ago, serial killer Inside Out murdered a local bank employee at her home. Now he killed again. The police are speculating it might have something to do with his new competitor."

I snort loudly. Me! His competitor! I'm certainly not his competitor. I'm his admirer, if anything! And he knows that, too, I think, otherwise he wouldn't have reacted that quickly.

I pull out my laptop and google his latest murder. They didn't say too much on the news, so I have to find out more on the internet.

Today seems to be my lucky day. I find what I'm looking for almost immediately.

There's an article about the murder that (for once) doesn't concentrate on the fact that it's his third killing this week but rather focuses on the case itself. Apparently, it was committed in a supermarket, the same kind of store I killed in. That's probably a hint... It also says that IO left a note in his latest victim's hand, saying, "Come and get me, I'm waiting." They speculate the note is meant for the police but I know better. IO simply accepted my offer.

* * *

 I'm strolling down the sidewalk, ducking my head into my hoodie, so people don't recognize me. Since I killed in front of cameras, my face has been released to the public, making it so much more dangerous to be outside. But this has to be done. Besides, it's almost 12 am and not a lot of people are around.

I'm on my way to IO's crime scene, partly to find out more about what happened and partly because there's the small possibility Inside Out is waiting for me.

I know it is a very small chance, and his note and the location of the body probably mean that he'll be waiting in a supermarket _similar_ to this one, but it couldn't hurt to pay a visit to the actual scene of the crime. After all, nobody will expect him or me to be there.

I can see the building now. It's not big, smaller than the one I ran into, and it's guarded by a single policeman. I don't think he's paying a lot of attention though, seeing as he's typing away on his phone. He doesn't notice me sneaking to the back of the building. Lucky thing there's always a back door.

I rattle it quietly without much hope. Back doors at crime scenes are usually either guarded or locked, sometimes both.

You can understand my surprise when it opens without resistance.

With big eyes, I sneak in and close the door behind me. Nobody is here, as far as I can tell, and I make my way towards the customer area.

It's dark but I'm not stupid enough to turn on the lights. Instead, I look around cautiously and notice that all the cameras are turned off. I start getting slightly suspicious... This isn't plain luck anymore, someone has obviously helped me get in. And there are only two possibilities of who they might be, the second option not looking good for me. If the police trapped me with this, I wouldn't get to meet IO.

Suddenly, there are silent footsteps behind me. They're not close yet and coming from the other side of the room but I still hurry to hide behind one of the counters, gun ready in my hand. I hear the door to the customer area creak open and notice the footsteps getting slower before finally stopping completely. Whoever they are, they're close.

"You can come out now, you're safe," a deep voice from the other side of the counter says. My breath hitches. This is no policeman, I'm sure of it. This is Inside Out.

Without a moment of hesitation, I tuck away my gun and stand up slowly, not caring about how incautious of a move it is. I come face to face with a man who seems to be around my age. He has dark hair and his eyes are shining blue even in this light -- they're ice cold. I notice he's wearing a trench coat and I can see a knife in his belt, probably a precaution.

He's handsome, just as expected.

We stand there for a few minutes, just taking each other in, judging in silence. There's a quiet understanding that we won't do each other harm and I decide to walk in front of the counter, so there's nothing standing between us anymore.

"You're Inside Out," I say, stating the obvious.

"And you're the new serial killer in town," he replies. I'm still mesmerized by his deep voice and can't help but stare at his lips. I'm not at all subtle about it but I honestly don't care. Especially when I notice him checking me out, too. Check pot.

"I'm Dean Winchester," I introduce myself and hold out a hand for him.

"Castiel. Novak," he adds while shaking it. "I hear you've been looking for me."

"I have," I tell him. "I wanted to meet you. You're a genius."

Castiel blushes slightly and even though it's barely noticeable in this light, I'm sure it's there. He doesn't seem to lose his confidence though, like he knows he's a badass motherfucker.

"Thanks," he says soberly, nothing in his voice showing that he's secretly flustered.

"Seriously, man, I appreciate your work with knives. The way you slaughter your victims, painting hidden images with blood, it's freaking amazing. And all that violence you put in there... Makes me hard every time," I tell him. He probably didn't want to hear that last part, but I'm not ashamed of my kinks and want him to know right away what he's getting himself into.

Weirdly enough, he neither blushes nor turns away. Instead, I see a small smile tug at his lips.

"Yeah, I know. It sucks getting a boner while stabbing people..." he winks at me.

I grin wickedly. "Ha! Yeah, I think I like you. We'll be having a lot of fun together."


	3. Chapter 3

**Dean's POV**

Cas and I have been working together for a few weeks already. It's been surprisingly easy, joining forces with him. I guess it's because we have the same way of thinking and both enjoy seeing people suffer just a tad too much. We managed to work out a completely new killing pattern, kind of a mix of our best qualities.

Cas obviously prefers the knife while I'm better at shooting, so we quickly decided to let me paralyze the victim to keep them from running, while Cas does his art. We've killed about five persons that way already and every one of them has been one hell of a turn on. Watching Cas murder some bastard _live_ was so unbelievably hot.

Sadly, we never got to do the dirty until now. Cas and I haven't really had occasion yet and to be honest, I don't even know whether he wants it as much as I do. Even though the look he gives me sometimes after a successful murder makes me wanna jump him right there and then.

Today, we decide to do it a little differently. Until now, we've killed random people in alleys or generally places nobody noticed, forcing us to be quick and quiet.

This time, we decide to kidnap our prey and take them to this abandoned building we found. It has soundproof walls and very few windows, which are also designed not to let any sound slip. It's perfect for us.

The victim is chosen by coincidence; whoever walks down the empty street first will be taken.

We don't have to wait long to find one.

It's a woman, a prostitute probably the way she dresses, and she's strolling down the street alone. It's our chance. I look over at Cas in our hiding place. He nods at me and I turn to get into action.

I follow the woman quickly, not caring that she can hear my footsteps, and smile flirtatiously when she turns around. She wears the same smirk as I do and my suggestions are confirmed soon. She is a hooker.

"Hey there," I say, voice low, and she almost purrs, "Hello, handsome."

"How much the night?" I ask and wink at her. If she's a prostitute, we won't have to sedate her to get her into the abandoned building.

"Depends..." she says and lets her hand travel up my chest slowly. She looks into my eyes and winks at me.

"Well, whatever you cost, we have it, so let's go before someone sees me talking to a hooker," I mumble into her ear.

"We?" she repeats curiously.

"Yeah, my friend will probably join us. You don't mind, right?" I ask and smirk. "Don't worry, he's hot."

"Hey, it gets me twice as much anyway, so I'm game!" she giggles and grabs my ass. "Lead the way, big guy."

It's surprisingly easy to get the hooker to go inside the abandoned factory with me, even though she starts getting suspicious at the sight. I simply assure her that I want to do it somewhere nobody will see because ' _I_ _don't want my reputation to suffer from it_.' She believes it and follows me.

Cas is already waiting when we get there, knife ready in his belt but hidden from her eyes. The lights are out and the only thing that's illuminating the room is the moon that's shining through the small window.

"You didn't lie, he _is_ handsome!" the hooker exclaims as soon as she sees Cas and grabs his ass as well. "So, what do you wanna do, guys?" she asks and looks at us with curious eyes. "Oh, before I forget, payment's beforehand!"

"That won't be necessary," Cas says and I marvel again at the coldness in his voice. This man is perfect in every way possible and I can't help but stare at him in awe, just like every time he kills.

"What- what do you mean?" she asks, suddenly sounding scared but Cas doesn't answer. Instead, he draws the knife out of his belt slowly. The prostitute backs away instantly.

"W-wow, guys, calm down! We can talk about the amount, if that's what you're concerned about! You know what, you might not even have to pay at all, just please, do whatever you need to do and let me go," the hooker almost cries out now, she's obviously scared but that doesn't impress us. We've seen a lot more.

Because she doesn't stop stumbling backwards I pull out my gun as well and shoot her in the leg. She won't be able to walk anymore and it won't kill her. Exactly what we need.

The hooker falls to the floor with a pained scream, blood leaking from the wound in her leg. I see the red liquid flow down her leg and immediately feel myself getting excited.

Cas suddenly jumps the victim, who's still trying to crawl away despite her bleeding leg, and throws her to the ground. She tries to get him off her and screams and punches and cries and kicks, but nothing works on Cas. He's a professional and there's nothing he can't handle. He holds her down without effort.

"Shh..." he says now, leaning forward to whisper into her ear. "We don't want you to die earlier than you need to, right?" He cuts a line into her cheek and she holds back a sob as the warm liquid starts running down her face.

I am watching, standing next to them, quietly urging Cas to go farther, to make more blood spill out of her. The thought alone makes me hard and I feel my jeans getting quite uncomfortable.

Cas slowly leans closer towards her face and mumbles, "You're a pretty one though, aren't you? Maybe we'll take our time with you..." With these words, he closes the last inches between their mouths and nibbles at her bottom lip. She makes a suppressed sound of fear but tries to keep it together, hoping we'll make it quick.

She obviously has no idea who she's up against.

Cas continues nibbling at her lip, changing it into a real kiss after a few seconds. He forces her mouth open with his tongue and moans right into the open space. His moan does things to me and I wish I could just take off my pants right there and then and jerk the fuck off. I don't, though. Instead, I just palm my arousal through my jeans, softly groaning at the contact.

Cas notices the sound and opens his eyes, slowing his kiss. He lets go off the hooker's lips after a moment, still leaning over her, and lifts his eyes to mine. I don't even have time to realize that I'm still palming my jeans before he says something.

"Do you like that, Dean?" he asks and his voice is hoarse and deeper than usual. "Does this make you all hot and bothered?" I take in a sharp breath at the sound and nod silently. Not that I would have had to, Cas probably sees the lust-filled look in my eyes.

"You know, I won't mind if you decide to take care of yourself," he states matter-of-factly and turns back to kiss the hooker before I can react. His words finally arrive in my brain and without hesitating I take off my pants.

"Cas," I say hoarsely, as I'm gripping my erection tightly. "I wanna see blood."

Cas looks at me, then down to my rock-hard dick and smirks. He nods as if to say, "With pleasure," and sits up on the prostitute.

As Cas raises his knife, the woman realizes what's going on, screaming loudly and trying to get away from under him, but his thighs have her pinned against the floor.

"Do it, Cas," I groan, starting to stroke my dick in anticipation. And he does. He thrusts his knife into her stomach without blinking and ignores her desperate cries and pleadings for mercy. Blood spills out of her belly, soaking her clothes and all of Cas, and a few moments later, Cas thrusts the blade into her again and again and again, riddling her chest, her heart, her liver - all of her inner organs swimming in blood. The red liquid splatters around, there's a lot of it all over Castiel and a large puddle is forming underneath the hooker. She has stopped screaming, her body gone limb. She's dead. But Cas is still thrusting his knife into her, completing his work of art.

I am stroking my length faster now. All the blood I'm seeing has turned me on so much, I can feel that I'm close. I know that I won't need much more than the sight of Cas working his knife, covered in the blood of an innocent woman. I moan, not able to hold it back, losing my rhythm for a moment.

Cas hears me and suddenly remembers what I'm doing. He stops working his knife and looks at me, following the stroke of my hand with a content look on his face.

He realizes I'm close by the look in my eyes and holds out his hand to stop me.

"Not yet," he says. "This can be so much better for you."

I force myself to stop as Cas comes closer. I see his own lust-blown eyes the moment before I feel his lips on mine and I comply happily. His lips are rough and chapped and taste like blood, but that's just the way I like it. He bites and nibbles on my lip until it bleeds and invades my mouth with his tongue, and I let all of it happen because it hurts and there's blood and it makes me even hotter than before.

He reaches down to my arousal with his blood-covered hand and starts stroking again, roughly, not caring whether he hurts me or not, making me moan loudly at the contact. The blood works like lube and soon enough I feel the knot in my stomach building up.

My breath hitches in my throat and suddenly, Cas throws me to the floor, his hand wandering down to my hole. He pushes in two fingers at once without a warning, the blood making them slip in easier but the stretch still hurting, and I moan like a whore at the feel of it. I can feel my dick throb painfully and order Cas to put in one more. He does, fast and hurtful, making the muscle protest but I love the feeling of it and grind down on his fingers. My erection's still leaking pre-come from before and I know that with a few more strokes, I'd be _gone_ , but I want Cas to have his way this time so I don't reach out to touch it.

"Cas," I gasp. "More."

"You want more?" he growls and I hear the lust in his voice. "I'll give you more."

His fingers leave my hole and I groan at the loss, before I see him opening  his pants and pull out his dick. He reaches over to the dead hooker and dips his hand into her blood, spreading it over his own arousal.

I moan at the sight of his blood-covered dick.

He thrusts into me without warning and I flinch in pain but don't protest. He hits my prostate at the third thrust, making me moan in pleasure again, and he keeps hitting that same spot over and over and over and I want to touch my cock so badly, but I don't dare to. Cas is getting faster, also getting closer to the edge, and he's hitting my prostate again and again and suddenly, I can't take it anymore and I am coming even without being touched. I'm moaning and my breath is coming in pants but Cas isn't finished yet. He's close but not quite there and he's still pounding into me while I'm riding out my orgasm. It starts hurting a bit but I don't care. On the contrary, the pain almost makes me hard _again_.

"Cas..." I gasp. "Fucking come inside of me and spread your cum and that bitch's blood inside of me, or I swear to God I'll need to fuck you a second time!"

And with that, Cas comes, spreading the warmth inside of me while moaning and still rutting into me, getting slower and slower until he finally slips out, lying down on the floor next to me.

He's panting -so am I- and after a minute, he eventually says, "God, we _so_ have to do that again."

And we did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, this could work as an ending, but there's a possibility that I might add a chapter.  
> I started something but it's not finished and it's basically one chapter consisting of more smut.  
> I'm gonna let you decide, I think. If you want a real ending (and no open ending, which I am actually pretty happy with as well), I'll try to finish said chapter. I have no idea if it would improve the story though, just a warning.  
> Like I said, I'll wait for your reactions and depending on how much time I have, I'll decide then.
> 
> Thanks for reading this!


End file.
